


Chasing Something Just Out of Reach

by MadHattie



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Happy Ending, Other, Reincarnation, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7184933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHattie/pseuds/MadHattie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each life gives them one more chance to see the other again.<br/>Inspired by 25 Lives by Tongari</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Something Just Out of Reach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpiritusRex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritusRex/gifts).



Their first lives cling to their second like mud to a lotus root; they blend together in the chaos of a war that they never asked to fight. They give both of these lives to the Innocence, to what they have been told is for the good of humanity, until the crumble and break. These may not be their first lives, but they are the first that they remember. But this life together ends in a crumbling old room, on an island that no one alive seems to care about. It happens far sooner than either of them would like after living for so long with only memories of the other to keep them company. At least they can say that it’s quiet. The one called Alma drifts away. The one called Kanda leaves, but first he lingers. Runs his hands through the other’s hair. Aches with the tears he can’t bring himself to shed. But there are things to do, and the world is not kind enough to let him grieve.

They miss each other the next time around. Alma feels the world through feathered wings and doesn’t notice the tired veteran that he passes by on his long journey. He’s always felt like there was something important that he was forgetting, some missing piece, but the seasons call louder than memories do, and he forgets in a world of eating and singing and flying and flying and flying. Kanda sees him, but only for a moment, a glimpse of a wing in the far corner of the sky. He feels longing, melancholy, but dismisses it as a fluke. A resurgence of memories taking over for a bit. They die together but apart. At the same time, but a thousand miles away, so that they can’t hold the other close.

It takes until the end of the next life for them to find each other again. They huddle together in their hospital beds, sick and afraid and far, far too young, and they each promise that they will be with the other no matter what. If either of them remember their past lives, they don’t say so. Instead they hold hands through fever dreams and laugh at the nurses behind their backs. The doctors tut that they’re too young for all this suffering, but they were young before in that awful war, and the world didn’t care. The god of the innocence deals out lots as he chooses, and doesn’t tell why. They enjoy the moments that they’ve been given, and when one lets go the other is not far to follow.

Neither of them are human the next time around, but both of them remember the lives where they were. It’s a relief for both of them that the other can sympathize. For a while people tell tales of the angry black alley cat and the sweet little street dog that somehow became friends, but after a while the rumors die down and give way to more interesting things. The language barrier is difficult for both of them, but warmth transcends language, especially on a cold night. The huddle in a city that has never heard of innocence and keep each other safe and warm. It works, for a while. 

After a while it becomes clear that luck has never been on their side. They don’t think that god has ever been either. They live many lives never speaking. They live many more not admitting that they remember a time when they died among the lotus blossoms, face pointed up towards a hopeful sun. It’s far more painful to carry those memories in the forefront of their minds than to pretend that they don’t exist. If one slips into Japanese, calls the other by a familiar yet unfamiliar name, the other understands, but does not mention it. If that’s the price they have to pay for peace, then they’ll pay it over and over again in every single lifetime.

The world forgets about Innocence, about a holy war fought in secret, but they never do. Kanda is convinced that there are still Bookmen around to tell their story. Alma would rather that it all be lost in time. In one life they meet on a forum for people who believe in alternate histories. Most of the people are just conspiracy theorists, but some are searching for answers to the things in their lives that don’t quite fit. They recognize each other’s stories down to the very letter, amazed to find that they aren’t the main character this time. There’s thousands of miles between them, but they make it work as best they can. After all, it’s not the first time they’ve had the world between them

Wars come and go, but they never wanted to be soldiers. They’ve seen enough fighting for a thousand lifetimes, and so they become draft dodgers and peace advocates. When they’re dragged into the fray again they live in fear that the person on the other side of the battlefront is the one who has taken their heart over and over again. But to die at the other’s hands seems more merciful than to die never having had seen them at all. Victims take your heart in their own way: not from love, but from pity.

They don’t bother to ask why they must chase each other across timelines just to feel the other’s warmth. It became clear early on that it was them against the world, and the world had the advantage. There are lives when they search for each other in vain, reaching for something that their fingers can barely brush. It’s easier to just wait and let their paths cross by accident. Those worlds are always full of happy surprises: you can’t be disappointed at the lack of something you never expected to find. 

Two babies are born side by side in neighboring hospital rooms. Their mothers get to talking and realize that they live only a few streets away from each other. The children grow up welcomed and loved, and in turn they love each other. It doesn’t matter that one is grumpy while the other is an unabashed optimist, or that one will eat anything as long as it’s covered in mayo, while the other pushes away everything that isn’t noodles. There’s a warmth that surrounds them when they’re together that no one can seem to describe. Neither one of them remembers the dozens of lives that it took to get them to this peace. They don’t remember the sacrifices, the sadness, and they don’t remember the Innocence. But really, it might be better that way.


End file.
